


Evening and Morning

by silver_chipmunk



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 06:32:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19351408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_chipmunk/pseuds/silver_chipmunk
Summary: Just a little Crowley/Aziraphale first time fic.





	Evening and Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little fluff and happiness for them.

Evening and Morning

Anthony J Crowley, demon, lay drowsily pleased with himself and the world. Beside him the angel Aziraphale snuggled, warm and asleep. If there was anything about this situation that surprised Crowly, aside from it taking place at all, it was how well the angel snuggled. It was unexpected; somehow Aziraphale didn’t seem the snuggling kind. Maybe it came along with angelhood. But then, in the preceding hours, the angel had shown an aptitude for many things that Crowley would never have guessed, only vaguely hoped.

The whole encounter had worked out exceedingly well, Crowley thought. Opportunities for spiritual beings of either side to engage in sexual encounters had been few and far between ever since the days of the Nephilim crises. Neither side wanted a repetition of that pre-Noachian fiasco of half-breed human/spiritual beings. Both sides had enacted a general ban on sexual congress with humans that could result in offspring. There was no rule against relationships with the other side, though, probably because neither side thought it was at all likely to happen.

But likely or not, here they were, and despite being out of practice, or in the case of Aziraphale, Crowley suspected, possibly having no practice at all, they had acquitted themselves nobly. Or at least Aziraphale had, in Crowley’s, perhaps biased, opinion. He only hoped he himself had done as well. Certainly the angel had had no complaints.

It was a few days after the end of the world hadn’t happened, and the day of their lunch at the Ritz. Afterward, just slightly tipsy with the very nice champagne they had had to celebrate the world’s, and their own, survival, they had gone back to Aziraphale’s bookstore, ostensibly so he could show off its restored, indeed, slightly improved, state, but really because they felt like being together a bit longer. 

And as they sat in the bookstore, drinking another bottle of very nice wine, Crowley had thought, “Well, why not?” It wasn’t as though he had never considered it. Indeed, when, during that horrible time on the day of Armageddon, he had thought the angel was dead, one of the chief regrets he had was that he would never know what those angelic lips felt like. And that Aziraphale would never have the chance to know that he was desired, that was another big regret too. 

So he had stood up, prompting Aziraphale to do the same, moved in slightly, put his arms around the angel, pulled him closer, and gone for the kiss. And for a few moments all had gone exactly as planned. The angel had melted into him, responding to him passionately. Then he had stiffened and pulled away.

“What… what are you doing?” he squeaked.

“Oh come on, Angel. Don’t tell me you never thought about it,” Crowley countered.

“No! Never!” But then he paused. “Well, maybe yes, occasionally,” he admitted. “But we can’t! It’s not allowed!”

Crowley had pulled him in for another kiss that went deeper, with tongue this time. “There’s no rule against it,” he pointed out, releasing Aziraphale’s mouth momentarily.

“Only because no one ever thought it would happen!” But Crowley could tell his resistance was fading. His body had gone relaxed, and there was a hazy look in his eyes.

“What are they going to do to us that they haven’t already tried and failed to do?” Crowley asked pointedly. While Aziraphale pondered that, Crowley took the opportunity to steal another kiss. This was fun. More than fun, deeply and passionately rewarding. The angel tasted like the wine they had been drinking, but under that, like sunlight and flowers. 

“I suppose you’re right,” the angel mumbled around Crowly’s lips. Then, as if that settled things, he went in for a kiss of his own, pulling the demon even closer to him.

They had stood making out for a few minutes, lips and tongues working passionately. Crowley decided to open things out a little bit, and slid his mouth down to the angel’s neck, nibbling and licking the smooth skin of his throat, bumping into his bowtie. Aziraphale made a sound like a soft murmuring moan. Crowley found himself pleasantly surprised when the angel slid his hands down Crowley’s back and fastened themselves on his buttocks. He responded with an ass-grab himself. Aziraphale’s rear was pleasingly rounded and firm. As he held tight, their crotches ground together interestingly.

Finally he broke away enough to say huskily, “I suggest we take things to a better place.”

“Alpha Centauri?” Aziraphale suggested muzzily.

“Wouldn’t you be surprised? No, I meant like your bedroom.” He paused. “You do have a bedroom, don’t you? ‘Cause if you don’t we can go back to my place.”

“Of course I have a bedroom!” Aziraphale said. Then he added, less indignantly, “But not a very large bed.”

“We’ll make do,” Crowley said huskily. He didn’t really want to risk losing momentum at this point. 

Aziraphale led the way to the bedroom, with the, not as small as all that, bed in it. And things had progressed very well from there. 

Now, the next morning, the two of them lay cuddled in bed, with their clothing scattered over the floor, the angel’s pale blondness contrasting to Crowley’s dark-red-haired body. Aziraphale stirred slightly and opened his eyes. For a moment Crowley thought his heart might burst from the look in them.

“Awake, Angel?” he asked.

Aziraphale smiled. “You know, my dear, I have always liked your eyes. So… golden and exotic.”

Crowley snorted. “Exotic? You mean snaky. You’re just lucky that this body isn’t more snake-like than it is.”

“Oh?” A tone of puzzlement.

The demon shook his head. “Never mind.” He had no wish to explain reptile sexual morphology to the angel, and describe a hemipenes. For one thing, suppose Aziraphale was intrigued by it? Were angels allowed to be kinky? That was a question to be answered another day, Crowley decided. For now, his mostly human body would be quite sufficient.

Aziraphale made a dismissive motion. “Well, there’s a more pressing question. What do we do now?”

Crowley smoothed his fingers over the angel’s crisp white-blond curls, now somewhat disheveled, and pulled him to him for another kiss. “The same again?” he suggested. “Or… variations on the theme.”  
“Well, yes. But that wasn’t exactly what I meant.”

Crowley placed another kiss, this time on the tip of the angel’s ridiculously upturned nose. “What did you mean then, Angel?”

Aziraphale blushed furiously. “I meant… after this? Tomorrow, and after that?”

“We keep on doing it, obviously. Really, what is the problem?” Crowley was a little put out by the angel’s apparent reluctance. 

“But for how long?” Aziraphale pressed.

“Forever, of course. Or at least until the next time your side and my side decide they want a war. Or the humans decide they want a war with both. Unless,” he added, suddenly unsure of himself, “You don’t want to.” It was an unpleasant thought. Suppose the angel had, well, scruples about being in a long term relationship with a demon.

“You mean you want this to be permanent? Really? You… and me?” The angel looked unsure of something too.

“Is there a problem with that?” A flicker of fear raced through Crowley. 

“No! Never! I just didn’t think,” the angel continued, “that you would want to stay permanently with, well, anyone.”

Relief flooded the demon. “I don’t want to stay permanently with just anyone. I do want to stay permanently with you. After all, Angel, we’ve already been together for six thousand years.” 

“Oh well, that’s all right then,” Aziraphale said cheerily. “I imagine lust is part of the stock in trade of a demon.” 

“Yes it is. But what about you, Aziraphale? Lust isn’t a thing for angels, is it?” Crowley said, worried again.

“My dear Crowley! When we do it, it’s called ‘love.’” Aziraphale beamed. Then his face fell. “But I suppose love isn’t a thing for demons.”

“Aziraphale, a demon is just a fallen angel, after all. I don’t think there’s actually much you can do that we can’t. We just generally don’t.” Crowley said carefully. “But think. Why did I rescue you during the French Revolution, hey? Or risk entering a church for you during World War 2?”

“I…never thought about it,” Aziraphale admitted. “Do you mean…?”

“Oh Angel, do I have to say it?” Crowley sighed theatrically. 

“Yes!” Aziraphale said emphatically. “Well, I mean,” he added with less emphasis, “It would be good to know exactly where we stand. For clarity’s sake.”

“Oh, of course for bleedin’ clarity’s sake… I think you just want to hear me say it.” He was less annoyed than he sounded, though. 

“Maybe I do.” Aziraphale was stubborn.

“All right. You win. I love you, is that clear now?” Crowley growled. “Have for ages. I want to keep doing this with you for ages more. Here or Alpha Centauri or anywhere you like. Now what about you?” His heart was in his throat as he awaited an answer.

“Oh my dear! Of course I love you too! I just never realized it before,” Aziraphale said slowly. “But these last few days have been a revelation to me. I never considered that such a thing was possible. Let alone that you would feel the same.”

Crowley gave an involuntary sigh of relief. He didn’t want to admit even to himself how important this was. How important the angel was. But it was all right now. 

“So,” continued Aziraphale, “My question still stands. What do we do now? Do we keep up separate domiciles? See each other weekends and vacations? Or move right in together, and confound them all?”

“I hadn’t thought that far ahead,” Crowley admitted. “This situation was a spur of the moment decision.” That was unusual. Crowley was a planner. A schemer, really; it went along with being demonic. It was usually Aziraphale who took things as they came, floating along in a cloud of angelic assurance that things were going as they should, according to the divine plan. But for the moment, Crowley had no thoughts or plans beyond the moment.

“Well, we don’t need to decide right away” Aziraphale asserted, reverting to type. “For now… this is just nice.” He shifted his position in the bed until he could reach the demon easily, and kissed him intensely. 

Crowley responded, just as intensely. “Yes,” he murmured, “Nice.”

And things went on from there, very nicely.


End file.
